


Artistic Talent

by theinsandoutsofcastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, NSFW, Oral Sex, Virgin Michael, Wing Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-15
Packaged: 2018-10-31 22:55:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10909164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theinsandoutsofcastiel/pseuds/theinsandoutsofcastiel
Summary: Requests: Hi! Can I request something where the reader is a prophet and when she’s not writing she likes to draw and one day michael catches her drawing him?? Thank you and I love your writing!!! :) AND I was wondering if maybe you could do awkward smut with virgin!Michael. Like he really likes the reader and they are starting to get it on, but Michael has no idea what to do so you have to show him. Thanks love AND Could I plz ask for a Michael x reader where Michael is a virgin and the reader showers him with praises when they fuck?





	Artistic Talent

Warnings: Smut, virgin!Michael, oral, wing!kink

Fic:

Being a prophet was often stressful. People were always asking more from you than you could possibly give and you were tired, you needed a break. Your one solace was your archangel, Michael.

Since you had become a prophet, Michael had become a constant fixture in your life. He protected you from the people and monsters who wanted nothing more than to use or kill you. Michael was there when you needed someone to talk to and you told him everything, save for your feelings about him. He never responded in kind, keeping his thoughts and secrets to himself. The archangel invaded your every thought and you wanted to be with him in every way possible, not that he knew any of this.

Finally finding some time to yourself, you lock yourself in your room and pull out your sketchbook before settling on your bed. It was filled with pages upon pages of drawings you had done of Michael. There was something about him that you could get lost in and drawing his features always relieved your stress. Turning to an empty page, you make yourself comfortable and begin to sketch an outline of his body. You’d start with his face before moving down to his neck, broad shoulders, and muscular arms. Imaging what he’d look like without clothing had become a favorite subject for your art lately.

The scratch of pencil on paper fills your ears as you create the lines of Michael’s body. You’re so wrapped up in the drawing you’re creating that Michael makes you jump when he speaks, “Is that how you see me?”

You instantly flip your book shut, your cheeks burning bright red as you try to hide the drawings out of sight. “Michael, what are you doing here?” you ask him, tucking your book under your sheets.

“I wanted to see you,” he answers, “Though perhaps I should have knocked first.”

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” you tell him, looking away shyly. The way Michael looks at you makes you feel ashamed. You shouldn’t be fantasizing about an angel like that, something so pure deserved better.

“May I see them?” Michael asks.

“My sketches?” you ask, your voice squeaking.

“Yes,” Michael answers as he takes a seat beside you on your bed, “Please, I’d like to see them.” You swallow thickly before looking up at the angel who was sitting beside you, patiently waiting for your answer. Finally, you pull your book from beneath the sheets and hand it to Michael.

You watch as he places the book in his lap and opens it to the first page. His eyes scan the picture before turning to the next one. “Do you like them?” you ask him after a long, uncomfortable silence.

“You’re very good,” Michael praises, though it wasn’t the answer you were looking for, “May I ask why they’re all of me?”

“I -” you stumble, having no good answer other than the truth. When you fail to answer, he continues.

“I’ve often pictured you in much the same way,” Michael admits, “Though I lack your artistic talents.”

“You mean …” you begin, unsure of how to finish.

“I’m ashamed of it,” Michael says, “My job is to protect you, not lust after you. I’ve never felt the way you make me feel and it makes me want things, things I could never ask you to give me.”

“Why couldn’t you ask me?” you ask timidly.

“You’re a human and I’m an angel, we were never meant to be together,” he answers, “Asking you for the things I want would be inappropriate and even if they weren’t, I wouldn’t even know how to ask. I didn’t want to scare you or push you away.”

“Michael, you wouldn’t scare me away,” you assure him. Michael laughs quietly, almost to himself, as he turns the page of your sketch book.

“You don’t know what I’d be asking for,” he tells you, his fingers running along the paper as he traces the lines on the page. “My wings don’t really look like this,” he tells you absentmindedly.

“What do they look like?” you ask him.

“Light,” Michael answers.

“I don’t understand,” you admit.

“It’s hard to explain,” Michael tells you, “It would be easier to show you, but I can’t.”

“If you showed me, you’d have to kill me,” you summarize.

“No,” he corrects, “If I showed you, you’d have to bond to me.”

“What does bonding mean?” you ask him.

“I’d be yours and you’d be mine, forever. Showing you my wings would be the first step in the process,” Michael answers, “I could never do that to you.”

“Even if I wanted that?” you ask.

“Why would you want that?” Michael questions.

“Because I love you,” you reply. Michael shuts the book, holding it in his lap and keeping his eyes glued on the cover.

“You deserve to be loved by someone better,” he says quietly. Slowly, you move your hand to cover his, wrapping your fingers around his hand.

“But what I want is to be loved by you,” you press gently. Michael turns to look at you and you cup his cheek, running your thumb along his cheekbone. He leans into your touch as he turns his hand and intertwines his fingers with yours.

“I love you,” Michael finally admits. A smile crosses your lips as you lean in to kiss him, but he doesn’t respond.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize as you pull away. Michael looks at you wide eyed, pausing for a moment to process what had just happened before reaching for you. One of his hands moves to your waist as his other hand wraps in your hair, pulling your lips back to his. His kiss is sloppy, almost frantic, and you can tell he’s unpracticed. “Michael,” you whisper as you pull away. You giggle as Michael tries to follow you, not wanting to break the kiss. Holding your hand up, you press two fingers to his lips to keep him from kissing you.

“Did I do something wrong?” Michael asks, disappointment thick in his voice.

“No,” you assure him, carding your fingers through his hair.

“I’ve never had this experience before,” Michael admits, “If I did something wrong, I’m sorry, tell me how to fix it and I will.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you tell him, “You just need practice. Let me teach you.” Michael hesitates as you lean in.

“You’re sure you want this?” Michael questions, “To be bonded to me for the rest of your life.”

“Yes,” you answer, “I want you, Michael.”

“I want you too,” Michael tells you. Pulling him in again, you press your lips to his, kissing him deeply. You take control of the kiss, guiding him as your lips move against his. He gasps as you slip your tongue between his lips and map out the space of his mouth. Michael loses himself to you, reluctant to break the kiss as you pull away for air.

Reaching for your sketchbook, you take it from Michael’s lap and place it on your nightstand. Once your book is out of the way, you move to Michael’s lap. His hands splay across your lower back as you drape your arms over his shoulders, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He pulls you in tighter and you can feel him growing beneath his jeans. You rock yourself down against him, giving you both just a hint of friction and making Michael gasp.

“I need you,” you mumble against his lips.

“Need me to do what?” Michael asks, swallowing hard.

“You know what,” you tease him.

“No, Y/N, I don’t,” he tells you, looking lost, “I’ve never done this before. That’s part of why I never asked you for this. I didn’t even exactly know what I wanted, let alone how to tell you that I wanted it. I need your help.” Michael’s cheeks turn bright red and he looks away as if he’s ashamed.

“Michael,” you say gently, cupping his cheek and bringing his gaze to yours again, “You don’t have to worry, I’ll guide you.”

“Thank you,” Michael whispers.

“Here, I’ll start,” you offer as you move from his lap. Michael seems reluctant to let you move away, but he finally lets you slip through his fingers as you step back. You put on a show for him as you begin undressing yourself, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the side.

Michael’s lips part as you open the front of your jeans and wiggle out of them, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. A smirk crosses your lips as you spot his cock twitching in his jeans, just begging to be freed. “Y/N,” Michael groans, “What are you doing to me?” He palms himself through his jeans, giving himself some relief.

“You’re excited,” you explain to him as you kick your pants to the side, “Aroused.”

“Because of you,” he confirms. He wets his lips and draws the bottom one between his teeth as he watches you wiggle out of your panties. His Adam’s apple bobs as you reach behind you and unhook your bra, letting the straps fall from your arms. “Y/N,” he whispers, his eyes soaking in each curve of your body, “You’re beautiful.”

“Thanks,” you say, blushing.

“Should I undress for you?” he asks.

“Only if you want to,” you tell him, “Or I could help you if you’d like.” He palms himself as you move closer to him and drop to your knees.

“Y/N, i-it hurts,” Michael complains, trying to give himself more friction.

“Let me help you,” you say gently, moving his hand from his lap. He fists his hands into the sheets as you open the front of his jeans and reach into his boxers. Having your archangel like this was making you needy. Your core aches and you can feel your thighs becoming slick as you rub them together for friction.

“Oh, Y/N,” he groans, hips lifting from the bed as you take his length into your hand. You pull his cock from its confines, stroking him slowly and easing him into the sensation. When you think he’s ready, you lean in and press kisses along his shaft before swirling your tongue around his tip. “How can you stand the aching?” Michael groans, “It’s hardly bearable.”

“Because I know it’s worth the wait,” you tell him. Looking up at him through your lashes, you press the flat of your tongue to the underside of his cock and leave a long lick from base to tip.

Michael groans loudly in response, pleading with you and begging for more. You’re about to take him into your mouth, but he stops you. “I want, um…” he begins, hooking his fingers beneath your chin. You could tell he wasn’t sure how to ask for what he wanted.

“Take your clothes off for me,” you encourage as you stand from the floor. Michael waves his hand, his clothes disappearing in the blink of an eye. “Well, that works I guess,” you laugh.

“Should I have -” he begins, looking embarrassed, but you stop him.

“No, it’s perfectly fine,” you assure him, “But maybe next time we can take it a little slower.” Michael swallows thickly as you move to straddle his lap. You run your hands up his chest and neck before twisting them into his hair. “Is this what you wanted?” you ask him, pressing butterfly kisses along his neck and shoulders as you rock your hips against him. Michael groans as you slide his hard cock through your slick folds.

“Yes…” he answers, “No … not exactly.” His cock throbs, begging for release and you know exactly what he needs.

“Is this better?” you ask him as you reach between you and take hold of his length, lining himself up with your entrance and sinking down onto him. You give yourself time to adjust to his size, allowing him to become accustomed to the feeling of being inside you.

“Oh, yes,” Michael groans, his hands fisting in the sheets. Reaching for his hands, you coax them away from the sheets and move them to your body. He seems unsure of himself, but with your assurances he begins letting his hands roam your body. When one of his hands moves to cup your breast, you press your hand to the back of his, encouraging him to squeeze. “Is this - is this what you want?” he asks timidly. You hum in affirmation.

“You’re perfect,” you praise him, moaning as you swivel your hips.

“I - I am?” he asks. You hum again as you begin lifting and lowering your hips. “Michael,” you moan for him, “Oh, you feel so good.” Michael groans as you praise him, his fingertips digging into your skin.

“You’re so wet,” Michael groans. His hands slide down to your hips, resting there as you ride him harder and faster.

“Your cock is perfect,” you moan for him, nestling your face into the crook of his neck. You press kisses to his skin, feeling the vibrations of his groans beneath your lips. Michael’s hands slide to your back, pulling you closer to him. You shower him with praises as you slide him in and out of you over and over again.

“Close your eyes,” Michael whispers, and you do as he asks. A bright light shines through your eyelids and doesn’t stop.

“Michael?” you ask.

“Open your eyes,” Michael whispers. You just barely open one eye to find Michael’s wings shining bright behind him. He was right, his wings were nothing like what you had imagined. They were made of shimmering light and lacked a solid form. Instead, they flow like liquid in ever shifting patterns. Where you had imagined feathers, there were swirling tendrils of light and you can’t take your eyes off them.

“They’re beautiful,” you compliment, reaching out hesitantly. You keep your fingertips mere centimeters from his wing, unsure if you were allowed to touch him.

“Are you sure you want to bond to me?” Michael asks.

“Yes,” you answer, “I’m sure.” With that, Michael moves his wing towards you’d hand, the light swirling around your fingers. Michael shivers as you card your fingers through his wing, the light rippling in your wake. The contact creates a buzzing sensation within you, only adding to the pleasure Michael was already giving you. It sparks something within him as well, his instincts beginning to take over.

Michael wraps his wings around you, enveloping you in light. You whisper his name like a prayer, praising how good he feels and how good he is at giving you exactly what you need as he thrusts up into you. “That’s it,” you moan as he twitches inside you, “So good.”

“Y/N,” he groans, one hand twisting into your hair as the other splays across your lower back, “Y/N, please, I can’t - oh, Y/N!”

“Michael!” you exclaim as he comes undone, spilling himself inside you. The unholy sounds spilling from his lips combined with the feeling of his cock pulsing inside you sends you spiraling over the edge. You dig your fingers into his skin and pull him tightly against you, trying desperately to hold onto something solid as your body quakes. Michael groans as your walls convulse around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

You kiss his lips as your hips begin to still, making sure to keep him inside you for the time being. Slowly, you both begin to recover from your highs. “Was that … was I any good?” Michael asks shyly.

“Michael,” you purr, “You were perfect.” you run your fingers through his hair as you press a kiss to his cheek.

“I pleased you?” he presses.

“Very much,” you reply, “… Was this what you wanted?”

“Yes,” Michael answers, “Even better than what I could imagine. Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” you tell him, shrugging off the comment.

“I do,” Michael corrects, “You’re the only person I’ve ever completely trusted. That’s why I’ve never bonded before, but you … you’ve given me more than I could ever ask for. I love you, Y/N, I have from the moment I met you and I always will.”

“I love you too, Michael,” you reply, “Always.”


End file.
